Journal of a Follower
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: Follow Kharjo as he tells his adventures with the Dragonborn along with his telling of his past and love interest. In this story ,the characters are completely aware of their surroundings, including that they're in a video game. Rated M for language. As always suggestions are welcome. PLEASE REVIEW!
1. Chapter 1

Journal of a Follower

_**1st of Frostfall**_

_**201 4E**_

_I have been traveling with a mysterious warrior who the guards call Dragonborn for several days now. I am not sure what that means or what it foretells but it suspect it will be worth something. We are, at the moment, travelling to Whiterun, for gods know what. I think it has something to do with warning the Jarl about a dragon. A dragon! Who'd would've thought right? My friend told me that he saw one once but doesn't like to talk about it. The most I got out of him was that he escaped Helgen because of one of those damned beasts. I honestly really don't care to know the rest. The past is the past and let's be done with it. I too have a past, that I'm not necessarily proud of, let's just say that for now, it involves a bad skooma and moon sugar deal back in Cyrodill and that I'm prohibited to step foot in its borders, but that is a story for another time. _

_The road makes this one weary, I can generically say. It does this to all who walk the roads of Skyrim on a daily basis, it's even more wearisome when you walk the same damn stretch of it. Back and forth, over and over. The worst part of is, is Dro'marash, who won't stop his idiotic nonsense of myth and legend. He says that my Moon Amulet is cursed by Boethiah. Fuck that. If it were cursed, I would've been dead by now and he would've learned how to shut up. Since neither of those have happened it's not cursed, but part of me wished it was. Don't get me wrong, I love living, breathing is a past time, but when it comes to Dro'marash, I want him to die. The reason goes beyond the constant talking, it's the constant singing, drunken stupidity that always gets the caravan in trouble with the Nords. My theory is that he's the fucking reason the Nords hate us so much. He's always stopping into pubs, having his fill and walking out with some woman as if she's the jewel of his life, only to come back the next morning with no woman, no pride, and absolutely no sense of direction. It's times like these that make me wish I were an Argonian, at least they can go into the cities, except for Windhelm, but that's always been a racist shithole anyway. If I were an Argonian, I'd beat the shit out of Dro'marash, and then, if possible, quickly change back, and act as if nothing happened. _

_I have a secret to tell you, and you if tell the Dragonborn, I'm going to kill you. I'm in love, with Zaynabi. Yes, I know it's cliché and cheesy, but it's true. The problem is, is that she's a fence for the Thieves Guild, not that I wouldn't mind it, but I have a bit of disdain for them, for a good reason, and no I don't hate thieves, I used to be one after all, some there's at least sympathy. The reason I hate the Thieves Guild is because of that damned Nocturnal. She's a backstabbing murderous bitch. She's like the Night Mother's less crazy twin. Little less crazy, all the rage, bloodthirsty, egoistical worship. Not all Guild members are associated with her, it's just well, the leader of the whole thing, Byrnjolf, although technically not considered but technically considered, is, which can be sort of a problem when your love interest is constantly around him. Personally, I really hope that she comes to her senses, I no saint, but I'm better than those lying bastards, at least I steal things that are expected, like food and gold. But these crazies steal everything. Literally everything. Every time I see one of them they always look at me as if I betrayed them or something. In a strange way I did. It was back in Cyrodill, a long time ago, but that is also, for another time. _

_If I were to join anything, I would join the Dark Brotherhood, mainly because nobody gives a fuck what you do as long as you do it. I know what you're thinking. I bet in those little numb brains of yours, who can't stop staring at a screen long enough to go to the fucking bathroom are thinking to yourselves, but it's the same principle as The Thieves Guild. Um...no, it's not. The difference is, is that the Dark Brotherhood doesn't kill innocent people, at is, doesn't kill people that are innocent to them. Which I know is basically everybody but what I'm saying is, if there isn't a contract for you, you're pretty much safe, also the best part is, they're kind of like mercenaries. Anyone can get them to kill anybody. I know it sounds like I'm glorifying one and denouncing the other, but seriously, the Dark Brotherhood is a better for me. There's a reason why I say 'if you ever need a Khajiit warrior by your side I'd be honored to travel with you.' It's because I can fucking kill people. _

Kharjo stopped writing, he was interrupted by the Dragonborn. "Oh Kharjo, there's something I got to tell you." He said. "Yes?" Kharjo asked, closing his journal for a moment. "I'm part of the Thieves Guild," he paused, "and I'm a Nightingale." Kharjo rolled his eyes and opened his journal again.

_What did I get myself into? _

Kharjo looked up from his writing and tapped the Dragonborn on the shoulder, "I need you to do something." Kharjo asked. The Dragonborn stopped and turn, the rest of the caravan pushed onwards. "What is it?" The Dragonborn asked. "Dismiss me." Kharjo said. The Dragonborn laughed, "You're pretty funny." He said and walked on. Kharjo hung his head in defeat, sighed long as if annoyed, and scribbled.

_Fuck!_

"You coming?" The Dragonborn asked, as he caught up to the caravan. Kharjo nodded, and muttered, "You are taking us somewhere warm I trust?" He paused and looked at the reader. "If you have any sympathy at all, you would save me from this asshole. I know it's been like what, 1,041 words, 1,043 words since you started and I know that there's no plot or story yet, but if you love me, if you have any sympathy at all for me right now. Save my ass." He pulled out his journal again.

_Anyway, moving on. _


	2. Chapter 2

**_5th of Frostfall_**

**_4E 201_**

_We're in Whiterun. The joy. Ahkari decided that the caravan should travel with the Dragonborn for business, protection, and for some adventure. Okay I get the first and last, but what the hell! Protection! Isn't that why you hired me you bitch? _

Kharjo stopped writing. Ahkari was right next to the Dragonborn, rubbing his arm and smiling at him. "Oh, you're so strong and fierce and handsome." She batted her eyebrows. The Dragonborn smiled and said, "You know for a trader you ain't that bad." He said, putting on his charm. Kharjo rolled his eyes.

_So you're 'in love' with him is that it Ahkari? You know that as soon as you get the gold you need you're going to leave faster than a dragon flies. I know, I've seen it done, so stop pretending and just do it already, better now than later. _

The Dragonborn stopped, causing everyone else to. He looked up at the sky for no apparent reason and was talking to himself. "Let's see, do I want Hack and Slash or Bone Breaker?" He looked slightly to the right, "or maybe I want to start archery?" He moved around in a circle. "Ooh, maybe I'll start conjuration, yeah, that'll be good." Kharjo walked over, confused as hell. "Um, pardon me but what exactly are you doing?"

"Leveling up." The Dragonborn said.

"Right!" Kharjo answered with sarcasm. The Dragonborn looked down and there was a compass rose like object directly in front of him. Kharjo looked around and saw that Dro'marash, was running in place, as if he were trying to catch up but not really going anywhere. The Dragonborn looked at Kharjo and said, "Do you guard the caravan?" He then sighed and said "I'm sorry I did not mean to press that button."

"It's okay I," Kharjo started to say before he instinctively responded with, "Yes, I was hired to protect the others as we walk the roads of Skyrim. It is a thankless task and I would rather be back home in Elsweyr, but I have little choice. Ahkari freed me from a prison in Cyrodill, and now I must repay my debt to him. A word of advice, my friend - do not mix gambling and drink. Taken together, they will empty your pockets of every septim." The Dragonborn was moving his thumb up and down as if he were squishing a bug in mid-air. "The A button isn't working!"

"What are you talking about?" Kharjo asked. The Dragonborn looked at him, "I'm sorry!" He screamed. "I don't know what this is but..." Kharjo was once again stopped by his instinctive random three phrases. "If anyone sneaks up on us, I'll smell them coming, or I might not, we shall see."

"I need you to do something." The Dragonborn said, "Damn it!"

"What do you need?" Followed very quickly by "What is it?" Kharjo sighed and cursed, "What the fuck is going on!"

"I don't know!" The Dragonborn said, randomly pulling his sword out causing Kharjo to do so as well. "But I don't much like this!" Unexplainably, the Dragonborn starting attacking Whiterun guards as if he were a member of the Dark Brotherhood. The guards in turn attacked him and Kharjo ran in for the defense. In fits of confusion, they were both apologizing, "I'm sorry about this!" They both would say as they killed, and were attacked by mindless guards who said the same thing over and over. "You have committed crimes against Skyrim and her people, what say you in your defense?" Every single time, the Dragonborn would reply with, "I'd rather die than go to prison!" and the fighting would continue...

_The Dragonborn is in jail and I'm waiting outside. I don't know what's happening but it's really weird. After our encounter with the guards the Dragonborn was sent to jail and the caravan moved on without us. Finally. I'll miss Zaynabi, but she'll be waiting for me later. I waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited. For a total of sixty seconds when the Dragonborn came out fresh a daisy. He turned to me for a second, and I said. "Khajitt guards your back." Which is true, but to be honest, if that sort of shit with the guards happens again, I'm leaving his ass behind. _

Kharjo put away his journal as the Dragonborn entered Dragonsreach. Walking up slowly and causally to the Jarl, he was stopped by Irileth, the Jarl's Housecarl. She extended her blade and the Dragonborn rolled his eyes, apparently he's been through this before. "What is the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors." The Dragonborn was about to speak when Kharjo stepped up in front of him, "Now look here bitch." Irileth slapped him in the face, hard, leaving a red streak. Kharjo stared at her evilly. "You are a real pain in the-" Kharjo said, starting to rebuttal but Irileth slapped him again. "Kharjo doesn't much like those who slap him twice." Kharjo replied, the first time he ever used his name in speech. He isn't an egotistical sort, but he felt the need to say his name. "What are you going to do about it?" Irileth said. Kharjo smiled. "This," he said flipping her off. "suck it, you pompous little whore." Irileth turned towards the Dragonborn. "What is the meaning of this interruption? Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving visitors."

"Riverwood is in danger." The Dragonborn said.

"That explains why the guards let you in, the Jarl will want to speak with you personally." Irileth sheathed her blade and led The Dragonborn towards the Jarl. Kharjo followed with a smug smile as he shifted his weight about his feet swaying back and forth. If he had a mallet, he would have one, just to be an asshole.

"So, you were at Helgen." The Jarl started to say. Kharjo shook his head, "He was, but I was at-" The Jarl looked at him, not really caring and continued with his automatic speech that Bethesda made for him. " You saw this dragon with your own eyes?" The Dragonborn nodded. "No shit Sherlock." The Dragonborn turned to Kharjo and playfully hit him. He then turned back to the Jarl. The dialogue screen popped up, and Kharjo very innocently whispered in the Dragonborn's ear. "The dragon attacked Helgen, and I slept with your wife." The Dragonborn stared at him. "I can't say that, I plan on joining the Legion." Kharjo nodded, closing his eyes as if he were in a comedy movie, "Yes but, look around you, this guy is a prick. Watch, in about three hours, when you've leveled up enough you're going to come back here and he'll say..."

" You might be a guest in Dragonsreach, but you're starting to try my patience." The Jarl said. Kharjo smiled. "What would you have me do?" The Dragonborn said. Kharjo shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know, but I do know that," he looked up and saw an XBOX 360 controller floating in the air and heard a voice that was speaking all of the things that he was. "Hey!" Kharjo said. "Yes?" The voice said. "Stop making me an asshole!" Kharjo said. "Oh alright, have it your way." The voice replied and stopped speaking.


	3. Chapter 3

"Farengar, my court wizard, is looking into a matter related to dragons, in dealing with these dragons." Jarl Balgruuf said. The Dragonborn and Kharjo looked up at the sky for no reason and sighed, long, hard, and very annoyingly as if they've been through this far too many times to count. Over many different games and over many different Dragonborn characters, Kharjo has been through a hell of a lot. The good guys, the bad guys, the neutral, the purely evil, the insane, and so on. Every new game though, he loses his memory up to the point of when Balgruuf asks them to go to Bleak Falls Barrow.

_I fucking hate this guy. Every fucking day it's the same fucking thing. Bleak Falls Barrow. Bleak Falls Barrow. Bleak Falls Barrow. Alright already! Geez, can you send us anywhere else! Fucking Oblivion would be a blessing right now. I'd rather go and fight Boethiah than find a fucking stone. Farengar, you're a wizard, a pompous, lazy, fucking douche, who fucks in the morning, fucks at noon, and fucks in the evening. I want to kill you. So fucking bad. At the Jarl, don't get me started with him, he's the most obnoxious Nord in Tamriel. Not only that, but about fifty other people have the same exact voice as he does, so when I walk past them, I flip them off. Maybe I'm the reason Khajitt are hated so much. _

They walked into the Farengar's little room. He told them what to do and so on. All the while Kharjo looked at his wrist as if he was wearing a watch. The Dragonborn yawned in boredom. "Can we speed this up?" He said. "Yes," Kharjo said, "we have places to go and see, and apparently play fetch for you two idiotic morons." The Jarl looked at him and glared. "I can have you thrown into the Dragonsreach dungeon for that."

Kharjo smiled and walked over, "Does it look like I would give a fuck?' He said, pulling his claws out. "I'm sick and tired of you and I've wanted to kill you for a long ass time."

"Kharjo I need you to do something." The Dragonborn asked.

"What do you need?" Pause, "What is it?" Kharjo asked as always.

"Attack Jarl Balgruuf." The Dragonborn said.

"Even Khajiit have their limits, no." Kharjo retracted his claws a moment, "But in this case, I'm willing to make an exception." He pulled out his claws and stabbed Balgruuf in the throat. "That's for being a bitch." He pulled out his standard steel mace, his weapon of choice and bashed in the Jarl's head. "That's for being a whore." He placed his steel plated boot on the Jarl's torso and kicked the Jarl violently towards the wall. "And that's for repeating yourself, having no originality, and being a pretty boy." Kharjo stood normally, sheathed his mace. Kharjo and The Dragonborn then began to do an elaborate handshake and dance routine, as if they were a rap battle team. "Oh, you just served, yeah, you just served!" The Dragonborn said. Kharjo repeated the verse, "Oh you just got served, yeah, you just got served." The Dragonborn said the second verse. "With a mace to the face, you're a fucking disgrace, with a mace to the face you're a fucking disgrace." Kharjo turned towards Farengar and did some very impressive rapid delivery. "And you are the wizard who plays with his lizard and every time there is a blizzard you run and hide cause you can't stop these rhymes even if you had the power to freeze time. So just try and stop me, cause I'm telling you son, we ain't doing this shit no more, peace out, we're done." By the time Kharjo was finished, the Khajiit was doing gang signs and middle fingers to everyone in the room as he and The Dragonborn walked out, feeling like they had just won the best bragging rights ever.

"That was the worst rap I've ever heard." Farengar said.

As The Dragonborn and Kharjo walked out, they strutted, like two douchebags. Suddenly music started playing. Irileth walked out and said, "A dragon has attacked the Western Watchtower," she turned towards The Dragonborn, "you should come too." The Dragonborn nodded, Kharjo tapped Irileth's shoulder, "Pardon me, but have you ever acknowledged me before?" He asked.

"Who the fuck are you?" Irileth said.

"I," Kharjo replied, "am the one thing that's keep this loser alive. Without me this guy would be-" he stopped and looked around and noticed that The Dragonborn was gone, Kharjo rolled his eyes and started running...in place. "I fucking hate this glitch."

Irileth and The Dragonborn, along with the generic Whiterun guards, with their generic garb, their generic voices, their generic weapons, and most importantly the same ten phrases as if they had nothing better to do, walked towards the Western Watchtower.

"No signs of him now, but it sure looks like he's been here." Irileth said.

"How can you tell the gender of dragon?" The Dragonborn asked.

The dark elf looked at him, "I don't fucking know ask the Greybeards after this quest!"

The dragon appeared, arrows flew, and when it was all over, The Dragonborn absorbed his soul. He started glowing and singing the Halleluiah chorus. "Halleluiah! Halleluiah!..." Kharjo came up, panting and out of breath. "Did I miss anything?" He asked.

"Oh nothing just a dragon." The Dragonborn said. "Aw damn!" Kharjo said, "I really wanted to see that, can you please load back so that way I can help you?" The Dragonborn laughed, "Hell no, my health bar is almost gone and I-" he stopped talking. Everything started whistling The Andy Griffith theme song. "What's going on!" The Dragonborn screamed in between whistling. "Don't ask me!" Kharjo replied, "but I think it's the loading process." The two friends looked up and saw the load screen and someone scrolling up picking a save to load up again. The person moved all the way down to the beginning of the game save, the one right before you create your character right after the horrible crappy cinematic, the one that you've seen seventy times because you just had to start over to "re-experience the game" even though you end up doing the same fucking thing anyway. Yeah, that screen. The person clicked it.

"Aw you bitch!" The Dragonborn and Kharjo screamed at the sky. Kharjo sighed, just as a thief passed. The Khajitt took off his Moon Amulet. "Here," Kharjo said, holding the amulet out with his hand and hanging his head in shame and frustration. "take this for me." The thief shrugged his shoulders, "Alright." He took it and ran off. Kharjo then turned towards The Dragonborn and held out his hand, The Dragonborn fished around a bit and pulled out the five hundred septims the cat gave him. Kharjo waved goodbye once and made his way to Riften. The Dragonborn walked all the way back to Helgen, changing into rags and tying himself up and standing in the position that he was in exactly thirty minutes ago (because that's how long this person has been playing) in reality but in game time it's like two days. Bethesda has a fucked up calendar. I bet they hired a Mayan to do it, three seconds is three hours and so on until you reach twenty-four and the game pauses. In the Mayan version of this game, the world ends during every single wait, sleep, load, etc. only to come back every single time looking the same. Yes, the Mayans believed in reincarnation. Interesting history huh? Okay, now back to the humor.


End file.
